


Liz and Darcy

by schmulte



Series: Kissing in the Rain [6]
Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Actor AU!, Angst, Henry is kind of a dick, I'm Sorry, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing in the Rain, M/M, One Shot, my bad - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:34:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28587303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schmulte/pseuds/schmulte
Summary: Actors Henry and Alex find themselves kissing in the rain yet again.
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor
Series: Kissing in the Rain [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2091210
Comments: 7
Kudos: 55





	Liz and Darcy

Henry decides he needs to get a grip. Ever since Song of Achilles, he and Alex have been getting closer. Exchanging texts and emails, late-night phone calls when neither of them can sleep. It should be a good thing. They work together often enough, and the whole world seems to think they're best friends, so it should be a good thing that Henry wakes up every day and waits for Alex to send him a good morning text. But it's not. 

It's not, because Henry is losing his focus. He's constantly distracted, checking his phone every five minutes, refreshing Alex's instagram constantly. He works his schedule around so that they're at the same events, refuses to commit to anything until he knows if he'll be in this next movie with Alex. It's the whole reason he was so rude to Alex in the first place -well, that and one other, but that doesn't matter now -he knew that if he allowed himself to get close to him, his career would suffer. And Henry can't let that happen, can't let the legacy his father worked so hard for be thrown away on some dumb boy. Even a beautiful, smart, witty boy whose kisses are sweet as honey. 

The real wake-up had been the phone call from Philip. An hour long lecture about people beginning to suspect that Henry isn't strictly gay-for-pay, rumors of romance with Alex. He needs to get back to real film, Philip tells him. Find a nice girl, settle down, be strictly heterosexual both on and off string. Get his head out of the clouds. 

So he decides this will be his last movie with Alex. His agent and publicist will be mad, but they'll get over it, in time. Henry will go back to doing more serious, legacy-worthy films, and Alex will find some pretty blonde girl to be the other half of Hollywood's "it" on-screen couple. He keeps replying to his texts with the plan to block his number after this is all over. He'd quit this project too, if he weren't already roped into a contract and didn't love it so much. A gender neutral version of Pride and Prejudice with colorblind casting? Come on. Henry would be an idiot to even think about passing that up. 

The tension is palpable when he arrives on set to begin his scenes with Alex. He had specifically requested they film all of Henry's individual scenes on days when Alex was not there, to make their time together as short as possible. It's the kissing scene today, the one Henry has been dreading since they first started filming. And of course, like always, it's in the rain. And god, Alex looks stunning today. Regency era clothing really suits him. Henry will miss that. 

The crew is all a little on edge- they've worked with Henry and Alex before, know their hot-and-cold relationship better than anyone, and today is certainly cold. Everyone seems to move as quickly and silently as possible. They're filming on a gorgeous estate in an old greek-like structure, beautiful stone and columns next to a deep blue lake. He does not make eye contact with Alex until the director is yelling action, and he almost breaks his character when he finally does. He reverts back to his old strategy, disconnects himself from reality and tells himself he's looking at Liz Bennet, not Alex Claremont-Diaz. The fake rain is not so cold today, not in his thick wool coat. He imagines Mr. Darcy would have done this on purpose, knew at one point or another he'd find himself here.

"Mister Bennet," he starts, taking on that posh air of superiority he's well known for. "In vain I have struggled and I can bear it no longer. These past few months have been a torment. I came to Rosings with the single object of seeing you. I had to see you. I have fought against my better judgement, my family's expectations, the inferiority of your birth, my rank and circumstance. All these things I am willing to put aside, and ask you to end my agony."

Alex- dammit, no -Liz looks at him with wide brown eyes. He is fierce, as always, undeterred by the rain, even as it puddles into his boots. He bites his pretty pink lip before he speaks. 

"I do not understand."

"I love you," Henry- Mr. Darcy -blurts out, and there is truth behind it, for both men speaking. "most ardently. Please do me the honor of accepting my hand."

Liz is obviously trying his best to maintain an air of politeness. "Sir, I appreciate the struggle you have been through, and I am very sorry to have caused you pain. Believe me, it was unconsciously done." Mr. Darcy clears his throat. 

"Is this your reply?"

"Yes, sir."

"Are you...are you laughing at me?"

"No, sir."

"Are you rejecting me?"

Liz's expression turns from intensity and mirth to cruelty. There is hatred in his eyes, so longer wide, but now squinting, scrutinizing Mr. Darcy's character. It is so characteristically Alex that he finds himself lost in this in a different way, imagining if this were real, if Alex would say this to him if it were not written down already in a book. His words are colder than any rain could be. "I'm sure that the feelings which, as you told me have hindered your regard, will help you in overcoming it."

"Might I ask why, with such little endeavor at civility, am I thus repulsed?"

"And I might as well inquire why, with so evident a design of insulting me, you chose to tell me that you liked me against your better judgement."

Henry sputters. "No, believe me, I--"

"If I was uncivil, then that is some excuse. But I have other reasons, you know I have."

Henry- Mr. Darcy -schools his expression, puts on the neutral face he was raised to make. "What reasons?"

"Do you think anything might tempt me to accept the man who has ruined, perhaps forever, the happiness of a most beloved sister? Do you deny that you separated a young couple who loved each other, exposing your friend to the world for caprice and my sister to derision for disappointed hopes, involving them both in misery of the acutest kind?" Liz practically spits the words at his feet. 

"I do not deny it."

"How could you do it?"

Henry feels himself losing control, getting too lost in the heat of the moment, but he can't help himself. He takes a step forward, high off the glare Alex is giving him, in the liberation of one last structured argument. "I believed your sister to be indifferent to him."

"Indifferent?"

"Yes, I watched them most carefully and realized his attachment was deeper than hers."

"That's because she's shy!" 

There's a fire in Alex's eyes, and something inside of Henry urges him _yes, yes, yes,_ telling him to press on. That part of him hopes, knows, that Alex is as into this as Henry is, that he feels that familiar spark too. "Bingley, too, is modest, and was persuaded she didn't feel strongly for him--"

"Because you suggested it!"

"I did it for his own good!"

He knows this has probably gone on too long, that the director should have called for a cut by now, but everyone on set can feel the energy, knows on instinct to let them go on. 

"My sister hardly shows her true feelings to me!" Alex pauses, glares at Henry, and he understands what Shakespeare meant when he wrote about love. _I burn, I pine, I perish._ "I suppose you suspect his fortune had some bearing?"

"No! I wouldn't do your sister the dishonor, though it was suggested...that is to say, it was made perfectly clear that an advantageous marriage--"

"Did my sister give that impression?"

"No! No, however, it was suggested by a lack of propriety shown by your mother, your three younger sisters, and on occasion, your father." He catches himself for a moment, lets the rain cool his searing skin. "Forgive me. You and your sister I must exclude from this."

Alex steps forward, chin jutted out in that defiant way, fists balled at his side. It gives Henry a little satisfaction to see that he has to look up. His scent mixes with the rain, lavender and vanilla and sweetness. It's almost intoxicating. "And what about Mr. Wickham? What excuse can you give for your behavior towards him?"

Henry takes a step forward as well, making sure to emphasize looking down at Alex from his few higher inches, trying to make himself as tall as possible. "You take an eager interest in that gentleman's concerns."

"He told me of his misfortunes." Henry rolls his eyes. 

"Oh, yes, Mr. Wickham's misfortunes have been great indeed."

"You ruin his chances and yet you treat him with sarcasm!"

"So this is what you think of me," he scoffs. "thank you for explaining so fully. Perhaps these offenses may have been overlooked had your pride not been hurt by my honesty--"

" _My_ pride?"

"--in admitting the scruples of our relationship. Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your circumstances?"

"And those are the words of a gentleman. From the first moment I met you, your arrogance and conceit, your selfish disdain for the feelings of others made me realize that you were the last man in the world I could ever be prevailed upon to marry."

There is no pomp and circumstance this time. No slow build, no tender caresses, no flickering glances towards Alex's lips. He grabs Alex by the neck and kisses him until his lips are swollen, putting every bit of heat, ever anxiety, anger, passion that has crossed across his mind over the past few weeks into the kiss. 

Suddenly he's finding himself stumbling into his apartment, eyes closed while he pushes Alex backwards toward the bedroom. The sensible voice at the back of his head reminds Henry this is the exact opposite of what he's supposed to be doing, that he's supposed to be done with Alex, now, but he tells it to fuck off. If he's going to have to give up Alex, give up this wonderful person for the sake of family and duty, then he's going to allow himself a momentary glimpse of happiness first. 

And, oh, that glimpse is glorious. Alex's skin is soft to the touch but he grips at it with such ferocity, blunt nails dragging across his back, teeth marks covering every inch of him. There are bruises at his hips shaped like Henry's fingerprints, and the noises he makes only has Henry gripping him tighter. When they're finished, when Henry is boneless and breathless and spent. Alex looks up at him expectantly, and so he keeps his eyes stubbornly on the ceiling. 

"This can't happen again," he finally says. He knows there will be hurt in Alex's eyes, he can feel him sitting up in the bed next to him, looking down over him. And still he keeps his eyes on the ceiling. 

"What?" Alex says, and the way his voice cracks is heartbreaking. Henry does not speak- he doesn't trust himself to not say anything he'll regret. "Henry. Look at me." Reluctantly, he slides his eyes over to Alex, and it hurts so much more than he thought it would. He's perfect like this, naked and mussed up and glowing, and Henry yearns to never leave this bed, but he cannot take back the words he's already said. "What's going on? First you act like you hate me, then we're finally getting along, and now that we've fucked, what, you're just gonna go back to hating me?"

Despite himself, Henry's face softens. "I could never hate you, Alex." His voice is quiet and he curses his weakness. 

"Then tell me what's going on with you." Henry swallows. Steels himself. He could kill for a Xanax right now.

"You're a distraction. This was a mistake, and it won't happen again. I need to...I need to focus on my career. I can't have you getting in the way of that."

Alex looks more angry than hurt. Henry tells himself that's a good thing. "So that's what this is about? You want to go back to your career of doing movies you hate, is that it?"

Henry sits up now, bile bubbling in his throat. 

"You don't understand the pressure I'm under. You don't have a legacy to protect."

"Is a legacy that makes you miserable really worth protecting?"

Henry groans and runs his hands through his hair, pulling at the ends. "My happiness doesn't matter. A legacy is a legacy."

Alex's face softens. He places an uncharacteristically gentle hand on Henry's shoulder. "It _does_ matter, Henry. What you want matters. What do you want, Henry?"

"I want..." Henry lowers his gaze. He can't bring himself to meet Alex's eyes right now, not when he's being so sincere when Henry doesn't deserve anything but his anger. "I want _this_. I want you."

Alex places a hands to his cheek and brings his face up. "Then fucking have me." Henry snaps himself out of it, pulls away. He can't do it, he's too much of a coward and he knows it, Alex knows it, the whole fucking world knows it. 

"You need to go, Alex."

"You don't want to do this, Henry--"

"Leave! Please, just leave." 

"If I walk out those doors, Henry, I won't come back. And you will be stuck here, alone, and you will be miserable for the rest of your god damn life."

Henry swallows. Braces himself. "Go."

Alex leaves, and he does not flinch when the door slams behind him.


End file.
